#GOSH i missed writing him
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words-with-wren · 7 months ago
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@chrumblr-whumblr day three: Carrying
Fandom: Endeavour. Four and a half years and I am BACK I missed these boys even though they break my heart <3 kinda bad but all of these are. Barely any editing OR even proof reading I'm ready 20 minutes late and posting from my phone woopsies
Word count: 2,170
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It was raining. Morse hunched in his coat, squinting bitterly up at the water coming through the trees. The sun hadn’t even started lighting up the area, and the whole morning had an air of misery about it. 
“Morning, Matey.” Strange’s greeting was altogether far too cheerful for the early hour of the morning and Morse turned his glare onto the other man. Dimly, he found himself for the first time a little envious of the uniform Strange sported--the hat and coat looked altogether far more suited for the weather than Morse’s own clothing. 
Morse just nodded in response, risking a hand from the safety of his pocket to wipe wet hair out of his face. 
“You really think we’re going to find something in this?” Jakes joined the two of them, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, looking positively damp. He was holding a torch in his other hand, the light illuminating the falling rain in a narrow beam. Morse found some small vindication that the sargent looked about as miserable as he felt. 
His vindication disappeared a moment later when Jakes flashed the light of the torch directly into his eyes for a split second. Morse squinted abruptly, blinking at the momentary blindness. He decided he wasn’t in the mood for a fight and assumed that was an accident.
“If there is anything, we should start looking soon,” Morse muttered. He hunched his shoulders, trying to find some comfort in his soaking coat and staring at a single point while waiting for his eyes to readjust. “The rain’ll wash it away soon.”
“If it hasn’t already,” Jakes muttered. He put the unlit cigarette between his teeth. It sagged disappointingly, wet through. Deserved. 
“The doctor said it’d be a knife, ‘bout so large.” Strange held up his hands as he was speaking, indicating a length about five centimetres long. Morse nodded, turning his attention to the woods. 
The chances were low that the murder weapon was still in the woods where the body had been found, but DeBryn had said there had been some kind of struggle, and likely not all of the blood found splattered across the scene was the victim’s. 
It was possible the weapon was still lying somewhere in the woods. Morse was of the opinion that their efforts could be better spent chasing other leads, but orders were orders and now here he was, standing soaked in the rain. 
“Right then,” Jakes said, taking charge of the situation. A few other uniformed officers mingled around and it didn’t take long for a search to be organised, starting from where the body had been found that morning and steadily branching further out. 
Morse found himself trudging through the wet forest, mud on the ground sticking uncomfortably at his boots, sweeping his torchlight over the muddy ground. At least he’d thought to pick up some wellys before heading out--his feet were about the only part of him not soaked through. 
He scanned the ground as he went, hoping something would come up soon so they could all go and get warm and follow more useful branches of inquiry. The route he was following started drifting steadily downhill, and Morse had to withdraw his hand from his pocket to keep his balance, grabbing onto tree branches and trunks as he went, torch held tight in his other hand. 
The mud was slippery and he almost lost his balance more than once, grabbing onto a tree to catch himself. His hair was back in his eyes and he wiped it out of his face again with frustration. 
They wouldn’t even be able to get anything useful out of any evidence they found--a murder weapon would be one thing, but after this rain there was no way they’d be able to get any prints off it. This was all a useless waste of time. 
Something flashed in the light his torch cast and he paused, one hand resting on a nearby tree trunk. He aimed the beam of the torch towards whatever it was, making out something sliver dangling from the branch of a tree. He stepped forward and suddenly a sharp pain bust through his foot. 
He was on the ground before he realised what had happened, face pressed uncomfortably into cold mud. Pain flashed through his foot and he gasped, pushing himself up onto one hand. 
Great, now he was wet and muddy. Not to mention his foot was throbbing in a concerning way. He shifted to sit but had to gasp out in pain, vision flashing white as he moved his foot. 
He managed to catch himself before he fell back into the mud, but the world twisted and spun around him dizzyingly. HIs torch lay on the ground nearby, a beam of light illuminating the mud in an almost golden hue, sparkling dots of rain flashing through the light. 
A root was jutting out of the mud just beside his feet and he glared at it--clearly the culprit that he’d missed in the wet and mud. 
He managed to awkwardly shift into a sitting position and retrieve his torch, eyes watering with pain every time he moved his leg. Supporting himself with one hand, he glared at his foot as though that would make it stop hurting. 
He wasn’t going to be able to walk on that he realised a moment later. With a groan, he started digging in his pockets with one hand, finally withdrawing the whistle Jakes had given him before they left the station. 
He blew sharply on it, automatically blasting out three short bursts, three long, and another three short. Someone would be near enough to hear and come to his aid. While he waited, he turned his torchlight onto the silver thing, still caught in a tree. It looked like some kind of locket, sparkling in his torchlight, and he hoped that whatever picture was in it hadn’t been ruined by the rain. That could be an important clue. 
“Morse?” Strange’s voice called from the trees a few paces away, and Morse could make out the flash of his torchlight. 
“Over here,” he called. “Twisted my ankle.” His voice carried a note of bitterness as he spoke, trying not to think too hard about how this was going to take a few days to come right again. 
Strange appeared through the trees a moment later, still looking positively dry. Morse, sitting propped up against a tree, his leg stretched in front of him, covered in mud and rain, glared up at him.
“You alright, matey?” Strange asked. Morse scowled. 
“I will be. Just give me a hand up.” Strange moved towards him but Morse spoke again. “Wait, before you do.” He flashed his torch at the locket again. “I found that.” 
“Of course you did,” Strange said good naturedly. He followed Morse’s torch beam and carefully tugged the locket off the branch it was stuck on. Tucking it safely into a pocket for later inspection, he turned his attention to Morse, in the process flashing the torchlight into his eyes. 
He squinted, holding a hand up and Strange apologetically dropped the light. 
“Sorry Matey,” he said, clicking the torch off and slipping it into another pocket. That unform coat really did have a number of pockets. 
“You’re as bad as Jakes,” Morse grumbled. But it was noticeably lighter now, and the torches were beginning to not be needed. Morse kept his on regardless--he didn’t want Strange tripping on an invisible root and joining him on the ground. 
“Up you get then,” Strange said, holding out a hand. Morse grabbed it with his free one, but the moment he tried to pull himself up, he jostled his leg and let out a scream of pain. He sagged back, eyes squeezed shut against the flash and steady throbbing coming from his ankle. 
“I’m okay,” he said, waving away Strange’s anxious hovering. “Just let me catch my breath.” 
“I don’t think you can walk on that,” Strange said. Morse just groaned in response. At least his boot was doing a better job at keeping his ankle tight than his usual shoes. Though taking it off was going to be a nightmare. 
That was a later problem, now he had to figure out how to stand up so they could get out of this miserable forest and somewhere dry. 
“Everything alright?” Jakes appeared through the bushes, the morning light strong enough to illuminate his pale face. Morse didn’t have the energy to glare up at him, his foot was hurting too much and his irritation at being seen in such a state by the sargent a secondary matter right now. “No time to be sitting down on the job, Morse.” 
“He’s twisted his ankle,” Strange explained. Morse just nodded. 
“Touch luck,” Jakes said. “Best be getting you to Casualty then.” 
“I would if I could stand,” Morse muttered. He shut his eyes as another wave of pain flushed through his foot. 
“I’ll carry you back,” Strange offered. Morse opened his eyes again, his pride battling for a moment with the pain emanating from his foot. 
“Morse is a skinny blighter but I dunno if you can carry him yourself,” Jakes said, staring down at Morse with a critical eye. Then he flicked off his own torch and tucked it away--it was more than light enough to see by now--and moved to Morse’s side.
Before Morse could really process what was happening, he found himself wedged in between Jakes and Strange, one on either side of him. Both of them tucked an arm under him and their other behind his back and Morse found himself lifted between the two of them. He instinctively threw an arm over each of their necks to stop himself topping forward. 
“Easy goes now,” Jakes muttered. Morse gritted his teeth as their movements jostled his foot, determined not to show any more pain. 
It didn’t take long to get back to where the cars had packed on the edge of the forest. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, and Morse felt bone wearily exhausted. He was lowered to the ground and somehow managed to remain standing, leaning almost all of his weight on Strange and holding his foot up. Jakes ducked forward to open one of the cars.
“You finish up here,” he said to Strange. “I’ll get him to Casualty. And then home.” 
Both of them fixed Morse with a long stare at that, but Morse just nodded. He was too exhausted to protest, and right now he wanted nothing more than to sleep off the pain. 
They managed to manoeuvre him into the back seat of the car, where he could stretch his leg out over the seats and Morse only briefly blacked out for a second. 
“Oh, here,” Strange said, fishing out the locket he had tucked away safely. “I’ll see you back at the nick,” he added to Jakes. Jakes nodded from the driver’s seat, a lit cigarette alright between his lips now he was out of the rain. 
Jakes didn’t say anything as he pulled away from the forest, moving quickly along the road. Morse bit down a groan of pain as the movement of the car jostled his foot, but it faded to a bearable dull throbbing soon enough. 
(He kept catching Jakes glancing in the rear mirror. There wasn’t anyone behind them, so he didn’t know why almost every time he looked up he made eye contact through the small glass.) 
“What’s the locket?” Jakes asked, finally breaking the silence. Morse couldn’t help be a little grateful for the distraction. 
He pulled it out, examining it closely. It had initials on it--F.C. The letters seem familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it yet. Carefully, he pried it open. 
The image inside was of the victim--a young man named Joseph Ethans. 
“It’s got Ethans in it,” Morse reported. He caught Jakes’ eye in the mirror again. “Doesn’t seem like something he’d own though.” 
“A girlfriend’s?” Jakes asked. Morse frowned, biting down a hiss of pain as Jakes took a corner a little too sharply. 
“F.C.,” he mused. Jakes made a questioning noise. “The initials on the locket.” 
“That’s the girlfriend’s name, right?” Jakes said. “Felicity Clarke.” 
“What’s her locket doing out in the woods then?” Morse asked, closing it again and tucking it safely into a pocket. 
“Maybe he was going to give it to her?” 
“I think we may need to question her a little more closely,” Morse said quietly. “DeBryn did say the killing wounds were weaker than one would expect from a grown man.” 
“You think the girlfriend offed him?” Jakes asked. 
“Maybe--aah!” He said the last as Jakes skipped a curb. 
“Sorry,” Jakes said. “Almost there.” 
“We’d better be,” Morse muttered. He shut his eyes, feeling strangely satisfied despite the throbbing ankle. Maybe the morning hadn’t been a complete waste of time after all. 
The rain outside finally made way for a weak winter’s sun. 
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earthbaby-angelboy · 7 months ago
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pinky promises | little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis (wc: 1,435) - A/N: I know, it's been forever, but I didn't want to leave you guys high and dry. so, enjoy a sweet fic about E and his baby who absolutely does not want to sleep. btw this is defo not proofread so sorry in advance! <3
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It was 11:30 at night, and you knew damn well that you should've been sleeping some odd couple of hours ago. But lo and behold, your insomnia just wouldn't let you. The bigger problem wasn't necessarily that you couldn't sleep, it was that you had gotten into the habit of refusing to let yourself sleep.
Tonight was one of the nights where your brain just wouldn't stop going. All the lights in your room were on, there was a record spinning, and you were doodling random things on a spare piece of paper. You couldn't stop thinking of all the things going on in your personal life, with the main thought being that you weren't doing enough for the people around you. You were well aware that not sleeping wouldn't help the crappy emotions bubbling up, but at the same time, you felt like you didn't deserve to rest. As you laid on your bed and doodled mindless shapes, you couldn't help but wonder: "why does he keep me around?"
You'd lived with Elvis for a long while now, and it was a far cry from the life you came from. You grew up doing everything and then some. And now, you had people doing it all for you; there was always the maids running around the house, completing the housework and tasks that needed to be done. There was Mary, who was always cooking whatever you or E would request. And of course, there was the Mafia, who were always scrambling to complete whatever task their boss had requested of them. This left you with lots of free time. Most of it was spent with Elvis, galavanting on whatever adventure he had thought up, but quite a bit of it was spent in your own head. You felt guilty, like you were mooching off of the man you loved so dearly. Between those thoughts and the busyness of your life, you had pushed your regression to the back-burner of your brain; you already felt guilty that Elvis had to support yet another person in his life, nevermind a little with lots of emotionally demanding needs. No, you couldn't do that to him, but a small part of you knew it was (almost) inhumane to be doing this to yourself.
Your regression was something incredibly dear to you, and your boyfriend understood this fact very well. The last time you had genuinely regressed was months ago, and you denying yourself your biggest coping skill was killing you internally. Elvis had tried mentioning the subject once or twice, but was quickly shut down by you. You couldn't bear talking about it, knowing that it wouldn't get you any closer to being comforted. Tonight was one of those nights where your brain was screaming, pleading for you to help yourself and just give in. If not to regressing, then to sleep. But no, you were stubborn, you needed to stay awake.
Deciding that you were bored of doodling, you hopped off your bed. You stood up for a minute and swayed where you were standing, confident that you were okay to walk. Your vision began to blur and you could see stars, but you were determined to keep yourself up. Just as you went to take a step, your legs gave out from beneath you. You yelped the second your body hit the floor, more from shock than from pain. As soon as Elvis heard the thump from downstairs, he ran as quickly as he could from the table where all the guys were gathered, up to your bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, he had to take a pause and catch his breath. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he shook the discomfort away and kept on going towards your room. Swinging the door open, his eyes darted around the room before landing on you, sprawled out on the floor, panting. As you locked eyes with him, he spoke, "nungen, what're you doin' on the floor?"
You looked around, as if trying to figure out where you were. "I…I don't really know. One minute I was fine, but just as I went to get up, my vision went all fuzzy. Now I'm here." You gestured around you with a dry laugh.
Elvis looked around your room; seeing the record spinning and realizing that your lights were on, he asked the obvious.
"You keepin' yourself up again?" Your eyes dropped to the floor, and a small sense of shame filled you as he caught you in the act.
"Elvis, I've told you. It's never enough."
He knew you'd been struggling recently, both with your sleeping patterns and your mental health. You had become increasingly more agitated with him, refusing to let anyone help you with even the most mundane tasks. You had pushed him away, both physically and emotionally. He had an inkling why, and although it hurt, he wasn't going to steer you into even more discomfort.
Disagreeing with your sentiment, he shook his head as he moved to help you stand. Putting his hands beneath your arms and lifting you up, you got a pang of comfort in your chest. For just a moment, you felt like his baby, the little girl you would always be to him. But as if it was planned, the feeling dissipated and was replaced with that same shame you had felt just moments ago. Once you got your footing, you craned your head up to look at your caregiver.
His hair was tousled, his eyes were soft, and his features held something that could only be described as an air of concern. As your eyes scanned his face, you hoped for something that would break the silence hanging heavy in the air. Elvis, who could read you like a book, pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. And softly, as if not to spook you, asked, "what's goin' on inside that yittle head of yours?"
And that was all it took for the floodgates of your brain to break as you fully regressed within a matter of seconds. Your eyes watered, and before you had the chance to respond to his question, your daddy was pulling you into his arms.
"Daddy," you cried into his chest. "Been needin' daddy, but couldn' ask," you sobbed.
With how you were feeling, this was about all that you could manage to say. But to Elvis, that was all it took for him to make sense of it. You had needed to regress, but didn't want to "burden" him, simple as that. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, and placed his chin on top of your head.
So this is what was getting you so worked up.
"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered. He couldn't help but tear up as the realization hit him: you thought of yourself as a burden upon him. How could you, the little ray of sunshine that broke through all of the crass darkness in his life, be a burden? "My beautiful baby, how could lil' old you ever be a burden on daddy? You know that ain't true." His voice cracked slightly on the last sentence, making you cry harder.
As much as you believed Elvis' words, you couldn't help but feel a haunting sense of overwhelm; at the love you were receiving or the sudden release of emotions, you couldn't decipher, but it was an amalgamation of feelings that had been longing to escape your little heart.
"C'mon," he spoke, "look at me." He gently pulled away from the hug, and put his hand beneath your chin so as to direct your attention towards him. Seeing the look on your face broke his heart.
"Honey, you don't need to worry about doin' nothin' in this house. You're just a dolly, and dollies don't need to be worryin' about doin' chores or nothin' of the sort. You bein' your cute itty-bitty lil' self is all I need. Can you do that?" He finished off with a small smile. You sniffled, and nodded aimlessly as you went right back in for another hug.
"M' sorry daddy. Buntyn's feelin' real pitiful tonight," you mumbled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he adjusted his arms around you. "I know, yittle. C'mon. We're gon' have Mary fix you some angel milk, and then we'll get all cozy. How's that sound?" You peered up at him. "Satnin gon' cuddle wit' me?" You asked innocently. He gave a small laugh, and placed a kiss on your forehead.
"Satnin will always cuddle wit' his baby. I pinky promise."
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aeb-art · 8 months ago
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is this out of character? yeah a little, but i'm laughing so
finally got to draw @8um8le's mall toons again 🥺💕 i missed them so much
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mangofanarts · 7 months ago
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q!Bbh......you'll always be famous to me...........
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lunaetis · 2 months ago
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@apocryphis asked :
there is a scribe laying with his head in eden's lap while absorbed in a book. when her hand, grazing the edges of his jaw, comes near enough, he momentarily takes his eyes off the page to leave a kiss in the cusp of her hand. and maybe follows up with the lightest of nibbles at her thumb. her fondness for teeth has not gone forgotten -
unprompted. || always accepting
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─「エデン」─  it was a foreign but tender feeling to be the one whose lap was borrowed as a makeshift cushion instead of being the one doing it to him. the TRAILBLAZER found the angle to be quite pleasant, however, as it allowed her to openly gazed at him in a moderate proximity, watching the way his long lashes draped over his jade hues while they were fixated on the BOOK in front of him. other than the starry night sky and countless constellations dotting the ebony canvas of the GALAXY, he was the sight she found herself being completely fascinated by. it was calming, watching him. his presence made her feel peaceful and content. like home.
                it was a rare time that her hand wasn't covered with the dark glove she usually wore. her digits slowly tread themselves through his hair, the feel of his silvery gray locks against her skin a rare sensation she had grown to like each time she got a chance to experience. his attention was impeccable as usual, barely flickering despite how she was playing with his hair. they were so soft and well-cared for, while her AMBER HUES watched him with a kind of adoration one did not see from the usually chaotic trailblazer.
                almost curiously, she traced down the line of his cheek, down to his jaw. perhaps, the movement of her hand might've partially obstructed his view and broke his unwavering concentration. the STELLARON VESSEL watched in awe as his line of vision shifted from written words to her hand, so smoothly guided it towards his lips. amber optics burned the sight of those long lashes draping over his beautiful hues, causing her breath to HITCH in her lungs as she felt the softest of kiss within her palm.
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                " altair ... " her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment there, the TRAILBLAZER felt a rush of warmth bubbling up from within, threatening to overwhelm her entirely. the sound of heart pulse echoed dully at the back of her mind, aureate orbs imprinting the sensation she had given countless of times but had never received. it came naturally for her to do so with him, to close her eyes and pressed her lips onto his palm or his pulse in promise, in utter devotion. it was like that ... she was to give her entirety to him who became not only her home but her reason of living.
                her star ... her altair ...
                her cheeks burned. it flushed, pink and then red, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. eden wondered if he felt something like this whenever she kissed his palm, too. if he experienced his entire body being engulfed in a sensation so foreign to have someone kiss him like he was EVERYTHING GOOD in the world. to have someone placing a kiss on her scarred and calloused palm from countless battles she had been in like she was the most fragile and precious thing to him.
                the nameless could still hear the sound of her HEART thudding against her ribcage even as he slowly opened her eyes. their gaze met when he playfully grazed his teeth in soft nibbles on the skin of her thumb. the adoring act to placate her penchant for biting earned him an airy laugh. it was light and refreshing, softening her expression as she couldn't help it developing into an affectionate chuckle. slowly, she finally leaned in, taking both their connected hands to the side as her lips hovered over his own in a breathy whisper just before their lips finally met.
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                " ... only you. "
                no one else would do.                 for me ... there's only you.
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scottishoctopus · 1 year ago
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LEMME GIVE YE A BIG SMOOCH *grabs yer face and kisses yer cheek forcefully*
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"Get yer hands offuh me this instance!" Jones growled and glared, raising up his clawed arm as to make distance. "Do Ah need tah explain tah ye about personal space...AGAIN- UH?!"
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wutheringmights · 1 year ago
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what is wars diagnosed with. I know he has them I just don't know which ones.
I would prefer if we didn't pathologize Warriors
#I neither have the knowledge to diagnose him nor care to do so#on one hand i think people that try to diagnose characters are often applying harmful stereotypes to people with real disorders#on the other i think trying to diagnose Warriors is missing the point of his character entirely#I don't want anyone deciding that he's like this because he has X because then it's too easy to decide that you're nothing like him because#you too don't have X. like that's missing the whole point of feeling sympathy or anger towards a bastard of a character#and like listen anon. you didn't ask for this lecture (one I should definitely be putting in the actual message and not leave in the tags)#and in theory anon you can do what you want and i can't stop you. death of the author and all that#but while i'm here I'll also say this: none of you better be out here diagnosing wars with low empathy because I write him like he#is empathetic. if i was writing a character with low to no empathy you will know. why? because your author (me) has low empathy#I'll spare you my rant about that but i keep putting off a character moment where i was going to establish that a character we know is a#good person discusses how they have low empathy because it's really important to me that people understand that your ability to be#empathetic doesn't make you a good or bad person. you just have trouble identifying when you need to show sympathy. that's it.#anyway sorry to make an example of you anon. i'm sure you were trying to make a joke but you accidentally hit a button that reminded me of#my real sensitive button gosh#me rambling#lu ctb#ask#anonymous#anyway add 'Frankie has low empathy' to your trivia about me
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carewyncromwell · 2 years ago
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“You can paint me any color,
And I can be your clown,
But you ain’t got my number --
No, you can’t pin me down!”
~“Can’t Pin Me Down” by Marina and the Diamonds
x~x~x~x
includes references to Adelia Selwyn @thatravenpuffwitch; Atticus Grimsley and Montelimar Bloom @cursebreakerfarrier; Orla Atkinson @nightmaresart; Io Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch; and Siyana Devonshire @dat-silvers-girl! 💚
x~x~x~x
Aesop Sharp was not a man completely devoid of patience. One truly couldn’t hope to teach anyone -- or even to stay sane, dealing with students like Garreth Weasley on the regular -- if they didn’t have a little of it. But when it came to dealing with fifth year Slytherin Jackson Knightly, Sharp found himself incredibly frustrated.
Jackson had been a late arrival to Potions class when he arrived at Hogwarts for his second year, just like one of Sharp’s personal favorite students, fellow Slytherin Adelia Selwyn. Unlike his best friend, though, Jackson was not at all attuned to Potions. Not only was he enough of a troublemaker that he was perfectly willing to smuggle ingredients to the likes of Garreth Weasley on a whim, he very frequently neglected to take brews off the fire before they exploded or forgot crucial steps in the middle of brewing. Sharp would frequently remind Jackson to stop daydreaming in class (which he was very prone to do), but rather than it snapping the boy back to any sort of attention or making him reflect on doing better, he would almost inevitably lose focus again, not long after Sharp moved on. And the last thing Aesop Sharp wanted to be was a bloody nanny.
When Sharp spoke to his colleague and Slytherin’s Head of House, Abraham Ronen, about his frustrations, Ronen merely laughed.
“Ah, Aesop,” he said jovially, “you have not taught students as long as I have. Young Jackson’s behavior is truly nothing out of the ordinary. Many a student has found themselves more able to focus on those things they have personal investment in over those things that don’t spark their imagination. I would think a fellow Slytherin alumnus such as yourself would be very attuned to that.”
“I am already very well aware of how much Mr. Knightly prefers your teaching style to mine,” said Sharp very coolly. “He is definitely your kind of student. But I am not about to start playing Gobstones with bottles of Shrinking Solution just to try to earn a single student’s favor -- and Mr. Knightly should learn to see the value in all of his classes, however lacking of entertainment he may find them to be.”
Ronen gave Sharp a pat to the shoulder. “Of course. It behooves him, and all of our students, to learn how to work well with a wide array of people. But you know, even we professors need to re-learn that too, once in a while...sometimes through students we find challenging to teach.”
A flicker of amusement seemed to dance in the older man’s eye.
“You say Jackson is my kind of student -- and yes, for certain he is. Talented, amiable, excitable, curious...incredibly witty, and yet surprisingly sensitive -- I’d say Eleazar and Madam Kogawa are just as fond of the boy as I am, and they’re not even his Head of House! But truly, I think you might find Jackson’s a very promising student in his own way...perhaps even in your class. Why, if even Atticus Grimsley can find it in his heart to like Jackson as a student, despite all the trouble he gets up to outside of class, surely you could.”
Sharp was skeptical of this thought process until the day following the invigorating Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor that spring. The Potionsmaster himself had not been present at the Pitch -- he’d had much more pressing matters to research in the Hogwarts library -- but he heard the school matron, Noreen Blainey, complaining to Ronen about it the following morning at breakfast.
“ -- poor boy got that hexed Bludger straight to the face, Professor! It broke his nose in five places! And yet he’s absolutely refused to come to me for treatment!”
“Jackson seems to be doing better now, Madam,” Ronen tried to soothe her, but she wasn’t having any of it.
“Only because he’s off brewing his own Wiggenweld Potions to mask the damage! He barely avoided getting knocked unconscious! That damage undoubtedly went below the surface. And yet somehow Mr. Knightly managed to slip right out from under everyone in the stands before they could send him to me, polished himself up, and now he’s cheerfully acting like he’s fine, despite barely being able to see straight!”
Ronen frowned. “Hm...perhaps I can convince Jackson to get a full physical exam. I’m certain if we emphasize our concern for his well-being -- ”
“Concern!” scoffed the nurse. “Unlikely! That boy wouldn’t even come to me for help when he got burned by Streeler venom, Professor. He’s almost as stubborn as Aesop Sharp, when it comes to accepting professional Healing advice...”
Sharp couldn’t help but cock his eyebrows very coolly at that, but ultimately chose not to join the conversation. It had made some gears turn in his head as it was, so he decided to dwell on the matter alone over breakfast.
Jackson Knightly brewing his own Wiggenweld Potions? Now that seemed thoroughly unlikely. Knightly had never been so competent to brew a potion he could safely ingest without proper oversight. It had to have been Miss Selwyn who helped him with it -- or perhaps Montelimar Bloom: the Ravenclaw did have a tendency to come to Jackson’s rescue, when he was in trouble. Even Bloom’s best friend Orla Atkinson was well known at being talented with healing magic...
Sharp’s eyes flitted over to the Slytherin table absently. He could see Adelia Selwyn and Jackson’s dormmates, Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow, sitting there -- even Gryffindor’s Beater, Io Gordon, had apparently left her own table to go over and talk to Adelia -- but no Jackson Knightly...
His left eyebrow raising with interest, Sharp sidled to his feet carefully, before trudging out of the Great Hall and back toward the stairs leading down to the dungeons.
Blasted leg, Sharp cursed inwardly. His lack of agility would never not irritate the ex-Auror -- he would’ve loved it if he could just Apparate up and down to different floors without climbing so many damned stairs, but the magic within the school’s walls was far too powerful to allow for that.
Eventually, though, Sharp did make it back to his classroom -- and as soon as he arrived, his sharp ears immediately perked up when he picked out the distinctive sound of something bubbling in a cauldron. 
Well, that could easily end in disaster, being attempted by the wrong student.
The image of Garreth Weasley blowing up his third potion that month rippled over Sharp’s mind.
Reflecting back on his old stealth training, the ex-Auror sidled into the classroom as quietly as he possibly could with his clunky leg, easing the door open so carefully that it didn’t give the slightest creak. When his eyes landed on the workstation being used, however, Sharp was a bit startled by what he found.
It was indeed Jackson Knightly. But rather than being in the company of someone helping him, he was working completely on his own, his back to Sharp as he counted out three -- four -- five lionfish spines, and then dropped them one by one into the cauldron. He kept glancing at the potion off-and-on, humming something absently, as he poured himself a cup of tea from a nearby teapot and mixed in some sugar. Once the potion had turned yellow, he tossed in five more spines, as well as some flobberworm mucus. Then Jackson sipped his tea, still humming absently, as he watched the potion turn purple.
Sharp stood in the door frame, his arms crossed, as he silently watched Jackson work. The Slytherin was in his own little world during the entire process -- eating toast, drinking tea, and even reading out of a tiny book that couldn’t possibly be for Potions while waiting for certain reactions to take place -- but he still did every step perfectly, all seemingly from memory. There were definitely points, though, where Jackson had to pause in the middle, close his eyes, and massage his temple as he took deep breaths -- clearly his head was still hurting him.
Sharp didn’t make himself known until Jackson took the potion off the fire at last. Once the potion had started to cool, he actually brought his hands together in a slow clap.
Jackson looked up, startled, as Sharp approached.
“A perfectly brewed Wiggenweld Potion,” said the Potionsmaster.
Despite being taken aback by his sudden audience, Jackson very quickly put on a big grin and gave a sweeping bow.
“To earn a ‘perfect’ assessment from you is high praise indeed, Master Sharp,” the fifteen-year-old said with a dashing smirk. 
“Indeed,” Sharp said airily. “I would hardly have believed it of you, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
The professor’s brows were raised high over his eyes as he considered Jackson a bit more carefully. There wasn’t any cosmetic damage to his face -- but true to what the school matron had said, Jackson’s blue eyes looked slightly unfocused and lacking of light. That lack of consciousness was something Sharp recognized immediately as indicative of a mild head injury.
“...You should take a seat,” Sharp said lowly. “Ingesting anything is best done in a seated position.”
Jackson gave a laugh. “Not when one is drinking one of these on the Dueling Field! My dear Lala -- Orla Atkinson, you know -- she gets competitive enough as it is. If I took the time to sit down and have fairy cakes with my potions, I reckon I’d have to ingest even more of both, once she was done with me!”
The brown-haired boy acted as flippant as ever as he wandered around the table to fetch his teacup. He played off the slight stumble in his step, as well as the slight clumsiness to his settling himself down on the edge of his workstation. Carefully ladling some of his finished potion out of his cauldron and into his half-finished tea, he then gave a long sip from the cup, exhaling lowly as he lowered the ladle and rubbed his temple. Then he plastered a smile back on as he addressed Sharp.
“Would you care for some tea yourself, Professor?” asked Jackson politely. “I borrowed the recipe from my sweetest little unicorn, Miss Devonshire, and it really is sublime...”
“No, thank you,” said Sharp.
“Oh, come now!” Jackson egged him on. “It’s still early morning -- I would think a cup of masala chai would be a good way to start the day off right.”
Sharp cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps it would -- if it were being enjoyed in the Great Hall, with the rest of one’s breakfast. But you seem to have neglected that.”
Jackson shrugged.
“Wasn’t feeling quite my best,” he said offhandedly. “But no matter -- I’ll be feeling right as rain, with a bit more of this -- ”
He ladled some more of the Wiggenweld Potion into his teacup. Sharp’s lips knit together.
“It might take a stronger potion than that to deal with the aftermaths of a concussion, young man.”
Jackson’s smile flickered ever-so-slightly as Sharp sidled clumsily across the room over to his desk.
“Oh, it -- it’s not nearly as bad as all that,” said Jackson, trying to keep the smile on despite how weak it suddenly seemed. He put down his teacup on the tray at his workstation. “I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Broken bones, glass embedded in my feet, Streeler venom...even got thrown head-first into a stone wall once, and I’m still standing! Dare I say, perhaps better than ever!”
His mouth spread into a brighter white smile. The Slytherin boy’s voice strangely didn’t come across as arrogant or blustering, however -- instead, it seemed almost reassuring: as if he wanted to comfort his professor so he wouldn’t worry.
Sharp, however, was blunt in his response.
“You may dispense with the pretenses, Knightly -- you’re not as good of an actor as you think you are.”
Jackson actually couldn’t help but pout at this.
“Bad form, sir,” he said rather coolly. “Insult my potionmaking, by all means, but to insult my performance ability overall? That is supremely ungentlemanly.”
Sharp actually couldn’t bite back a small smirk of his own. “I have been called worse things.”
Once he eased himself down in his chair, Sharp rested his hands on his desk, clasping them together as he regarded Jackson with a more serious expression.
“...You seem to know this particular brew quite well, to recall all of the steps from memory.”
The professor’s eyes flitted down to the book left open at Jackson’s station. As he’d thought, it wasn’t a book of Potions notes -- it instead seemed to be a book of poetry, judging by the few words he could make out upside down.
Jackson gave another shrug and offhand smile. “Well, as they say, practice makes perfect.”
“Indeed -- for you to brew it so well, it’s clear you’ve practiced quite frequently. Undoubtedly out of a necessity for it.”
Jackson’s dashing white smile became a bit cheekier. “What can I say? Trouble is a friend I run into quite often.”
“I’m well aware,” said Sharp coolly.
He paused. Then, after a moment, he said stridently,
“For the injury you’ve sustained, however, I do not think a Wiggenweld Potion alone would heal the damage.”
Jackson opened his mouth as if to speak, but Sharp cut him off.
“And since it’s rather obvious that you don’t wish a Healer’s input on what treatment would be suitable...allow me to, at the very least, give you some advice on what potion would be a better solution.”
The Potions professor eased himself up and out of his chair, awkwardly stomping over to his own station at the head of the class.
“Follow me,” he said brusquely.
Startled, Jackson got to his feet. He was frozen for only a moment, before he’d hurriedly rushed over to walk right alongside Sharp like a shadow. When Sharp reached his station, Jackson’s focus was abruptly drawn to the other side of the room.
“Your attention, please, Kn -- ”
Before Sharp could finish, though, Jackson had flung out his hand, and in an instant, the closest stool had glided across the room and into his open hands.
Sharp’s mouth was left slightly open, as Jackson brought the stool right up behind his professor with a smile.
“Here, sir,” he said, his charming face betraying some genuine kindness. “Allow me.”
Sharp stared down at the fifteen-year-old boy. Then he very quickly cleared his throat.
“...Ahem -- yes. Thank you.”
He sat down on the stool. Jackson then summoned one wandlessly for himself and positioned it next to Sharp’s.
“How long have you been able to summon things without a wand?” asked Sharp.
Jackson smiled brightly. “Quite a while, actually -- since I was ten, at least. Maybe even nine. I was right on the cusp when I first learned I had magic, you see. I’m not quite as good at wandless Charms as I am with Transfiguration, though -- conjuring flowers and doves is what I did most, in those days...”
Sharp’s eyebrows were rather high as he took this in.
“I know it can be kind of dangerous, to not use a wand to channel your magic,” Jackson said amiably. “Professor Weasley’s warned me of that, a few times, what with the risk of becoming an Obscurus and all. But...well, I was solely among Muggles, back then. Didn’t exactly have the means to go out and buy myself a proper wand, let alone any spellbooks. Truth be told, I....didn’t even own a wand until I returned to Britain, in time for my second year at Hogwarts. And truly, I am very fond of my wand -- she’s a most lovely thing. I just sometimes fall back on old habits.”
Wandless magic at only nine years old? Not only that, but wandless conjuration -- one of the most difficult branches of Transfiguration, largely set aside for students approaching the NEWT level? Despite himself, Sharp was actually rather impressed.
“...Hm. Well...if you can muster up the proper attention span, you could always speak to Professor Onai about such things. Uagadou is well known for teaching its students the art of wandless magic.”
Sharp turned to his station.
“Now, then -- watch closely. This brew is called the Syrup of Asphodel. It’s actually rather simple in its ingredients, but you will have to grind the asphodel root down to a fine powder and mix everything in just the right order, for it to be effective...”
Sharp stopped talking and set to work straight away. In the beginning, he could sense Jackson watching him -- before long, though, the boy once again seemed to drift off, his eyes gliding away toward the far corner of the room.
“Pay attention, Knightly,” said Sharp. “I don’t intend to demonstrate this twice.”
“My apologies, sir,” said Jackson.
Despite this, though, his blue eyes once again were drawn to the unfinished tea service at his station.
“...Sir?”
“What is it?”
“Are you quite sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea? I should think the potionmaking process would be a lot more enjoyable, if one partook in some tea in the midst of it...”
“I’m in no need of distractions, Mr. Knightly,” said Sharp airily, “and truthfully, neither are you. You get distracted enough in my class without adding a pot of tea to the mix.”
Jackson frowned slightly.
“Perhaps...” he granted. “But you said yourself that I brewed a perfect Wiggenweld Potion, while I was indulging in just such a cup of tea. And reading some lovely poems, for that matter.”
Sharp paused in his work to glance at Jackson out the side of his eye. The fifteen-year-old had taken out his wand and used it to levitate the tea service a bit more gently over to a table closer by.
“Forgive my impertinence, Professor,” said the Slytherin teenager as he got up and started fussing with his tea set, while still glancing over his shoulder toward Sharp at his station, “but for me, such ‘distractions’ as you call them are not a hindrance. My mind is prone to wander, as you know -- ”
Sharp gave a low, amused snort at the gross understatement.
“ -- but one thing that prevents that, for me, is constant action,” Jackson pressed on, unabashed. “Channeling my energy into physical activity -- even if it’s simply indulging in a cup of tea or parsing through works of Edgar Allan Poe -- ”
He summoned the book of poetry over to him with another wave of his wand, opening it to a certain page and perusing it before he returned his focus to Sharp’s station again.
“ -- I suppose it anchors me in the here and now, as it were. It gives me a reason to stay here, on the ground -- multiple reasons, in fact, all of which interest me. Whereas such austere silence -- complete stillness and undivided focus...it makes my mind restless. Like a dog being asked to walk around on two legs. It feels unnatural -- makes me prone to twitch about, just to try to get comfortable. And sooner or later, whoosh -- off I go toward a more exciting daydream, and all focus is gone.”
Massaging his sore temple a bit more with one hand, Jackson nonetheless beamed over his shoulder at Sharp.
“I confess -- it saddens me greatly that I lose my focus so easily in your class. You do so seem to love your subject.”
“How kind,” Sharp said coolly. With a tired sigh, he said, “Very well. I shall continue my work on this potion, while you do whatever you feel you must, to stay engaged. But as I said, I have no intention of demonstrating this twice -- so if your method of ‘anchoring’ yourself proves ineffective in helping you internalize my lesson, then that’s solely on your own head.”
Jackson grinned. “Understood, sir.”
And so Sharp continued brewing his potion. As he did, he could once again feel Jackson’s eyes on him, though rather intermittently, since the boy was also rifling through the book of poems, cleaning out spare potion bottles with his wand, and brewing a fresh pot of tea as he watched. At some points, Jackson even asked questions -- good ones, to Sharp’s surprise.
“When doubling such a recipe, would one simply double the ingredients, or just the amount of salt water? If one considers the potential for asphodel poisoning.”
“You would add a pinch more root for every three drops of salt water,” Sharp answered.
“And the best way to safely amplify the potion’s effects?”
“Add a half cup of dittany. It’s a resilient enough plant to not curdle in the face of asphodel when mixed in, and yet it’s soothing enough to not actively conflict with its effects.”
Jackson looked thoughtful. “Hm...would a pinch of ginger not conflict? Ginger’s supposed to be good for one’s digestion -- it might help make the tonic a bit more palatable.”
Sharp glanced back at Jackson over his shoulder with some interest.
“...Not a bad suggestion,” he said.
After a few minutes, Sharp finished off the potion and began to empty the contents of his cauldron into a vial. As he did, Jackson dropped off the second of the cups of tea he’d poured out down on Sharp's desk, not far away from the station he was working at.
“Here you are, sir,” he said politely.
“And there you are,” Sharp said crisply. With the potion vial full, he held it out for Jackson to take. “Syrup of Asphodel -- made up of nothing but salt water and, as one can expect, powdered root of asphodel. Do you remember how many drops of salt water one requires?”
“Three per dosage,” Jackson said promptly.
“And how many times did I stir this potion?” asked Sharp, as he lumbered back over to his desk.
Jackson considered this. He seemed to be counting in his own head.
“Let’s see...once when I sat down, twice before I lost focus -- three when I did. Four after I summoned the tray -- five, six...seven when I reread Lenore -- eight, nine...nine, yes, I believe it was nine?”
“Correct,” said Sharp. He placed his hand down on the desk so as to ease himself down into his chair. “Clockwise or counterclockwise?”
Jackson’s eyes drifted up toward the ceiling thoughtfully. “...All clockwise except for the first and last two.”
“Very good,” said Sharp, and indeed, he did sound rather pleased. “It seems there truly is a method to get you to pay attention to my lessons.”
Jackson grinned that bit more mischievously. “Glad to hear you’ll be more indulgent of me inviting my friend Lord Byron to class with me in the future, Professor!”
“Don’t push your luck,” Sharp said airily. “I’m still not thoroughly convinced this wasn’t some sort of practical joke on your part.”
His impish grin spreading that bit more, Jackson brought the vial up to his lips and downed its contents. Within seconds, he shuddered, but the breath he exhaled was full to the brim with relief and relaxation.
“...Ahhh...” he sighed happily as he brought a hand up to his forehead. “Oh, that does feel better...”
Sharp nodded in satisfaction. “Good to hear it.”
Jackson washed the potion down with the rest of his tea before turning to Sharp with a visibly more relaxed smile.
“Thank you for your time, sir,” he said. “And your lesson -- they’re both greatly appreciated.”
“You’re welcome,” said Sharp. “Now don’t you have some other lessons to get to? One thing I’ve learned is that however poor one’s health may be, one can’t easily justify not going to class, if he intends to not rest in the Hospital Wing.”
Jackson laughed. “No, I jolly well suppose not.”
Sharp indicated the door with a nod of his head. “Off you go, then.”
As Jackson made as if to go, though, he paused in the door frame and looked back with an odd, almost compassionate expression.
“...Sir, I really think you should try the chai,” he said gently. “Miss Devonshire recommended it to me for pain relief. Muggle remedy it might be...I would think it still might soothe some of the pain in your leg.”
Sharp paused. His dark eyes flitted down to the cup of tea in front of him to back up at the kindly boy in his door frame.
Then, very slowly, the Potions professor’s gaze seemed to lose some of its edge. It made his features look much less critical than before, though no less discerning.
“...Mm. I see.”
Sharp gave Jackson a muted incline of his head.
“...Thank you.”
Jackson’s face spread into a bright, charming white grin as he swept out of the room and back up the stairs at a run. Sharp himself also found himself smirking ever-so-slightly once he’d disappeared from view.
Jackson Knightly was certainly not his type of student -- but, Sharp had to admit as he picked up the cup of masala chai and silently enjoyed the soothing scent and taste of the brew -- he was a promising one, all the same. So long as he actually applied himself properly.
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tvrningout-a · 1 year ago
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i love that i have chiyo on one hand who, in her own canon, has kissed a total of one boy and proceeds to never do it again until she's well into adulthood bc kissing means having feelings and having feelings is scary. and then i have rin who probably can't count how many people she's kissed, and the only reason she hasn't kissed anybody else recently is bc, y'know, there's a war and she's been kinda busy ( but don't worry -- she's gonna hit the tavern and get smooched if it's the last thing she does ). just what a spectrum here asdf
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berryblu-soda · 1 year ago
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bruh i started writing a random scene from the end of one of my OC stories and started crying helpp (TvT)!!
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oreocoffee · 2 years ago
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When I don’t feel good I start missing him, I miss the comfort I had when I needed it. When I step back from the feeling, I feel sad because I wonder why wasn’t I enough.
It’s not him that I miss, it’s the feeling of knowing that everything is going to be okay.
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aureatchi · 28 days ago
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USER MUSAMORA, you CANNOT js start the story off with "the fire of pyramus danced within its hearth" & EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY.
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the dreadful need in the devotee — bungo stray dogs oneshot
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content. f!reader. poetic prose, discussions of mortality and death, existentialism, suggestive themes, allusions to greek and abrahamic myth, romanticized unhealthy relationship dynamics, possible continuity errors. notes and translations at the end. not proofread. 3.8k+ words. ⟶ features fyodor dostoevsky. this work is a sequel to another oneshot! reading it's not a requirement, but is encouraged. this is also a collaboration with @yonseibananamilk! please check out her half of the collab ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.
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The fire of Pyramus danced within its hearth, the crackles a plea for freedom. Wooden shelves shimmered in a spectrum of amber hues. The light married abstract shadows with the spines of ancient books, stories lost to civilizations no historian could neither name nor describe. However, the harsh rays softened as they reached the two huddled on a sofa in the corner.
The domestic flame of your shared nocturnal nook chiseled at your features. Meadowed plains melded into the hills of your cheeks before they dipped back into low valleys nestled on the cusp of your nose or at the curvature of your cupid's bow. Fresh streams fringed the waterline of your eyes, fluttering lashes portraying the underbrush that beckoned him, barely obscuring the mystery hidden beneath the murky brook. Such a delicate canvas, framed with messy hair, made his sick heart thump at such vulnerable dishevelment.
You drank every word of your book with reverence while he could hardly focus on the one he held. The careful movement of your fingers as you turned the page tainted his thoughts into fantasies where they instead traced the expanse of his skin—it was repulsive.
But he dreaded an infallible demise the moment you chose to lay against him, not a thought to the difference in your stations. That heated sensation of unfamiliar tenderness, shrouded from the world, only to be acknowledged in an unimportant room in an unimportant place, thumbed him with a sentiment he could not adhere a title to. You were powerless in the scheme of everything that enveloped you, yet held no regard for fear or fate.
Instead, you smiled.
He hid the quiver of his limbs as his finger brushed the underside of your chin. Your face craned upward, and he realized he had been parched for a taste of the features he had so painstakingly mapped to memory. Your eyes closed with leisure as you leaned into his touch and—
He cracked his eyes, unable to open them as they strained to readjust to the merciless glare of his monitors, their caustic luster a stark contrast to the imprisoned fireside of his daydreams. His muscles cried out when he stretched. The quiver in his limbs recurred in spasmodic vibrations, worsening the cramp of his hands as he flexed them. It was a relentless ache that had become all too familiar to him.
You were a distraction. He had lost whole minutes of time to fanciful delusions with you and that damning grin of yours at the center. In his preparations, he toyed with the idea of dispatching you to a remote location outside the ire of societal destruction before ridiculing himself upon further examination. If another one of his subordinates had become such an issue, he wouldn't have hesitated to snuff them out—you had to be the human incarnate of temptation, the ultimate test of his faith.
Men who had traversed the path before him did not do so without trial. He had scrutinized the warnings their stories contained—Adam, Samson, Saul—men who had strayed from their noble path only to lose their kingdom. Fleshly pleasures lured many a good man to condemnation, for how could such sweetness be considered a mortal sin?
The fallen had once been beautiful creatures of virtue, and you were but a testament to the scars left in their descent. It was temporary—you and the fragmented thoughts your presence created would pass in years' time. He only had to be patient.
A knock at the entrance to his workspace interrupted his internal toil.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?"
Patience would be easier said than done.
"Not at all."
Because you dissipated thought and reason from his frenzied mind the moment you blessed him with even a mumble. Your voice was the otherworldly harmony that strained atop his ballad of misery. Not the corrupt inflections he had become accustomed to over centuries of time, but rather a sincere, artless tune that only he was ordained to hear and that he alone could descry. He would only admit one fact—human companionship was a merciless mistress.
For he knew you were your happiest at his side as his right hand, but he could not understand the reason—it brought harm to your so-called "doorstep," and the workload was laborious at best. But even in this isolated instance, when the crooks of your smile didn't entirely brush the banks of your eyelids, a noticeable ease settled in your bones at the sight of him hunched over a desk. An ease he returned, albeit underneath the veil of his carefully crafted mask.
"The preparations for the cannibalism event are almost complete," you continued, maintaining an unusual manner of professionalism as you handed him a set of stapled documents and receipts. "I just need to receive your approval before sending out the orders." His eyes crossed each section without too much consideration for their actual contents, affirmed in his trust of your intellectual capabilities when it came to outlining critical components of his plans with the ire of a scrutinizing eye. 
"Thank you. These will do."
This was usually the time that you would dive head-first into a heated discussion about the latest novel from his collection or scurry off with a courteous farewell to complete the enormous amount of tasks you often procrastinated, but instead, you lingered. Your brows furrowed, locked in contemplation as your eyes stalled on his screens—schematics for his future "trip" to the European detention facility, Meursault. He cleared his throat, which luckily broke you from your daze.
"It'll be weird." You ran your thumbs across your knuckles, teasing at your bottom lip as you shifted from foot to foot. "Moving to a new hideout, I mean." The palms of your hands shifted to skim the dust and grime-coated surface of his barren shelves, toying with the clumps of debris that gathered on your fingers as your mind returned to its baseline. What did your thoughts stray to in times when they left you stranded, out of his reach, as they became more challenging to discern? He could only pray, in some twisted part of his dark mind, that they were a reflection of his own—then maybe those fantasies could be justified.
Outside his internal ramblings, he hummed lowly, acknowledging the truth behind that sentiment. Neither of you shared an attachment to the four walls that surrounded you—it was no home. It held none of the warmth or affection such a term required, though the idea of a home was foreign to you both.
Under those clouded waters, your eyes held a look he both adored and disdained. That muted hesitation had returned, like a criminal stood on trial, unable to utter a word of the truth lest they condemn themself. And you knew too much and said far too little. If you would surrender to your impulses, push him or pull him close so that, in some fashion, his conscience could be alleviated and he could refocus—but it seemed you were stuck within the same cycle of indecision.
You parted your lips, faltered, and closed them again, second-guessing yourself as you fiddled with your fist. But upon further inspection of your nervous disposition, he spotted an object that had been hidden in your back pocket. A book. He raised a brow as you slowly pulled it out.
"You've offered me so much reading material in the past." You handed him the book. Its cover was weathered and cracked; a once vibrant hue faded into a dark, timework brown. The delicate, diaphanous golden letters that spindled across the spin dulled with age but continued to catch onto the fluorescent light. "So I thought I'd return the favor. It's a book I've had for as long as I can remember."
"Poetry?" He couldn't withhold the amusement in his tone. You were such an adorable little woman—his heart squeezed in indescribable fondness at the incredibly fitting genre. The book cradled in his hands was even more charming, if possible. Several translucent tabs and disorder marks stacked the contents of the book, defining a distinct difference from his own analytical annotations. Part of him wanted you to leave sooner so he could delve into the contents away from distraction and be allowed to soak up every delectable notation.
"For wherever you plan to go. I hope you might find some use out of it." Your face softened. "I know it's helped me."
He huffed but knew that he was ultimately endeared. "Thank you, моя дорогая. If you enjoyed it, I'm certain I'll find it an enticing read."
A tremor trickled down your spine at the unexpected sound of his mother tongue. His thick accent sounded like velvet to the ears, but you quickly nodded and sent him the courteous farewell he had initially expected—but he couldn't allow you to leave without answering one more question.
"Which one should I read first?"
You paused, prodding the question around in your mind. The answer you stumbled upon was bold, and you contemplated your choices as your nails methodically drummed across the doorway's threshold. It was a risky choice, but one you had to take.
"Browning's Sonnet 22." Your expression could have locked him there for eternity. "It's my favorite."
And you left. You left, and indecision haunted him once more.
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An abhorrent, unsightly torpor flooded within him like the Neva itself, the warmth of the Russian summer smearing any presence of intellect or acumen from his person. His limbs lay heavy from the sweltering heat as the underbrush tickled at his perspiration-laden skin, allowing him a momentary reprieve as he observed the breeze push against the bountiful flora that edged the bank of a creek older than he was in a homeland he had no way to return to.
"Федя."
He roused from the rush that engulfed his body and replaced his idleness, his mind ravenous at the mere whisper of such an intimate, almost forbidden name. Soft hands replaced the roughened roots of creekside plants, trailing his arms until their owner came into full view, beckoning him to lean forward with the purse of your lips.
You were somehow even warmer than the summer sun, and he melted like a tempered candlestick at your sheer touch, lips chasing your own as you drew away with a smirk and a laugh. The collision of your bodies onto the hardened ground drew the breath from his lungs, but he allowed himself to find it once more in your embrace, nose buried in your neck as he resisted the urge to indulge in mortal temptations and simply allowed himself to revel in the innocent embrace.
"Федя," you cooed. Your hands roamed the expanse of his hair, outlining the edges of his nape in a rhythmic motion that started to lure him into a dreamless sleep. 
That was until the sensation started to fade, and he felt the familiar stomach-dropping sensation of falling. His eyes shot open as the idyllic naturistic scene dissipated from view to leave a void. Only you remained, but he paled as even you started to fade, reassuring him with a pitiful smile that he had become far too acquainted with.
"I'm sorry, Федя. You'll have to go one without me this time."
Your presence melded until your touch was like the chill of an algid frost—it was like the expiration of a dying star, crumbling in on itself until it rematerializes once more. From dust, you came, and to dust, you shall return. The contact was the biting notion of where and who he was, with every incapability and flaw that marred his flesh. It whipped at his skin, burned at his eyes.
He shook as you slipped through his fingers, drifting out of his grasp as he looked around for something to hold onto, anything to help either of you escape from—
"That must be a pretty good book you've got there."
The blinding aura of his circular cell was not a sight he wished to become accustomed to, the chamber he had been "forced" to occupy with the French prison. And to his utter dismay, it had been the lousy half of the Port Mafia's former Double Black that had stirred him from his waking nightmare, Osamu Dazai. The bandaged man looked like the cat that had caught the rat; his eyes narrowed as if he had finally pinpointed the Russian's weakness. An unseemly smirk drew across his pale face.
"You've been staring at the same page for the past five minutes, Fyodor," the detective crooned, splayed on on his bed with his head dangling at the side at an uncomfortable angle, almost like he wasn't locked in a high-stakes match of chess. "Your eyes haven't moved an inch. Leaves me to wonder what could possibly be so enticing about that book. You should lend it sometime!"
"I'm simply concerned for the well-being of your fellow agents," Fyodor sneered cooly, allowing his demonic mask to slip back on with his signature smirk. "I just can't help but worry for them. I'll be sure to pray for a swift, painless demise."
"Hmm, I'm sure."
But the suspicion of the detective didn't matter. Fyodor had ensured that you had no connections to one another, and your identity was completely erased once you went underground years prior. So, for the time you remained hidden, you were safe, and that terrible concoction of his mind would not come to fruition. You were in the midst of correcting course on any minor deviations from his plans if the smoothness of his operation was a testament—but in other moments between consciousness and sleep, he wondered if you shared these same thoughts. The split seconds that expanded into hours of dreams he wished never to wake from. 
He couldn't help but linger on the horrific scenario that cast an ever-present shadow over his every thought. It was a possibility, and he shuddered to think of the notion that it would someday become a reality. But this was his one opportunity, and he wouldn't waste it.
He glanced down at his book. In truth, he wasn't much impressed by the pages anymore. This was one of the many books with copies in his personal collection, but it lacked the vitality he had become attuned to. It had been your book of poems that revitalized him, yet he was unable and unwilling to bring such a valuable item into a place such as this. He would not risk the desperation of his opponent at finding his weakness, nor the capabilities of the Special Division for Unusual Powers in finding a connection to the book's owner—so it was contained somewhere safe and sound, where no one else could find it.
That book had opened a separate world that consumed him, body and soul. But that poem that you had recommended—you were quite the romantic, weren't you? His face had flushed during his first reading and the several times after it, though your annotations were even more telling. But it only made the pressure on his heart increase, and he swore it would implode. Perhaps that was an underlying medical condition of his previous host.
And for the first time in centuries, he wasn't quite sure what he would do when he saw you again.
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You dislodged yourself from the rubbled remains of the airport, fortunate to have been located further from the destruction Ame-no-Gozen created. The walls around you stood firm, but the roof caved in from pressure above, leaving only a sliver of room to escape to the intact remainder of the roof. Your hands ached and blistered with every inch of your ascent, halted as you took time to cough out the debris that generously clustered at the bottom of your lungs. You looked utterly worse for wear but couldn't find the time to mind given the circumstances.
After what seemed like hours of excruciating climbing, you made it to the top—but, of course, the fabric of your pants decided to snag onto a metal panel that had stubbornly remained intact.
"Oh, come on," you groaned, sitting down to tease and tussle with the ornery piece of cloth. It had been a restless last few weeks, and you simply wanted to sleep. You huffed as the shrapnel decided to release its grasp on your pants, but as you were about to stand back up, you took notice of the shadow before you.
There he was.
You could recognize Fyodor's striking eyes anywhere, even when he was clad in the attire of a fresh body without his signature hat and cloak, but you found that you didn't care much for the finer details when he was finally in front of you. His presence had formed a vacancy in your everyday routine, and for the first time in years, you found yourself completely alone. Even when there was work to be done and plans to create, the majority of his usual subordinates were killed as collateral—not that they had even been much company. But would you be forced to fall into the same line?
The question nauseated you, but you had known the possibilities when you took his hand for the first time. If there was a time for you to part ways, whether at his accord or your own, this would be it. This was your crossroads. But you knew as you slipped your hand into his, outstretched for you to take, that he wouldn't be letting go. The grip he had held you like it was a sin to part. It seemed your fears were unfounded since when you slipped your hand into his own, outstretched for you to take, you knew he wouldn't let you go. The grip he had held you like it was a sin to part.
You stood with his help, a contemplative tilt to your brow—but you couldn't stand the silence that continued to persist. So, in the echoes of his formulaic destruction, you allowed yourself to breathe. A release of that suspension and hesitation, unfurling your burden as you lifted your aching hands to cup his face, delighted in the widening of his eyes at the unbalanced scale between you tilted to the other side.
"Федя," you spoke, the sensation of the word foreign to your lips. A spark returned to his eyes as if you whispered the secret to raise him from the dead. "Are you alright?"
The wind rushed through him, breath tumbling with the breeze as it coasted along the metal platform you stood from. Despite reason pleading with him to run from your proximity, he instead chose to intertwine his fingers with one of your hands. He pressed kisses into the curve of your palm as he lined every scar and bruise with a tenderness that soothed your aches.
"I am."
He didn't need to utter another word—your brief separation had only strengthened your unified understanding of one another, with each crying gesture serving as the final touch. No more trials. No more secrets. The look in his eyes was one of stories. Eyes that had witnessed every dismal aspect of human nature, both in the past you shared, and in the past he traversed alone. But they had become worthless stories to him; the minuscule glimpses of resolution that had served as a sign from God of the promised end turned into the delusions of a desperate man as he found the reflection of the end in front of him—you. In every step he took since your destined encounter, you had been what he was searching for. His hope. His future. His reality. That fraudulent resolution was no longer at the end of a perilous tunnel but right before him.
You understood that the intimacy of your "relationship," with whichever label others tended to tack it with, could never be shared with another soul. Those voiceless, indulgent whispers and subtle, crinkled smiles were mere productions of your shared devotion. But more so, the hummed resonation of your souls spoke the loudest. They had remained empty for such stretches of time, so neither of you knew what to make of it when you somehow poured from your empty cups into the creation of a fulfilling bond. Your only comfort was the notion that this—this was the reason you were created. For each other.
He remembered the moment he laid eyes on you, the sensation that his long-time friend had turned foe, death no longer a temptation out of his grasp but a certainty he could not shake. Your straightforward disposition beckoned him, and he then understood why he had been made with a capacity for love despite acting as the immortal incarnation of its antonym. He had never once felt a need for fruitful devotion, not to some unseen voice from the skies, untouched by the heart and mind of humans, but instead for the one person who would take his heart to the grave with them.
He was immortal, whether by chance or fate, but it was your ability to shake off the temptations of fear that immortalized you in the end. Never once had you allowed your rift in mortality to halt the blossoming kinship between you, prodding at the walls of his solid foundations until they cracked and eroded over time. Fyodor chuckled—he thought he had a capacity for patience, between you were a godsend in comparison. He was the proclaimed "Demon of the North." The man sent to spread the wrathful will of God across the nations. So it was no wonder he had been so tempted when met with a force of benevolence, one which he had rarely witnessed and never known. He could never claim to be worthy of mortal worship when a creature like you stood before him.
You shivered at the sudden touch of his hands as they traveled across the exposed skin of your waist, soft despite his habits. They traced the contours of your figure like a sculptor transfixed on the finest marble. Time had not been merciful in his centuries alone—but it stilled for this moment. For the moment your lips met, and your odyssey was finally over. The spread of his touch was revolutionary, roaming with a cardinal fervor within this wasteland of human misfortune. It sparked a revolt within your mind—your union was taboo, but nothing had ever felt as destined to be.
The muscles of your face tendered as his thumb outlined the brushwood of your lashes. Your eyes drifted shut in a manner that wordlessly pronounced your insomnolence. He kissed a smile against your forehead as you parted, cradling your face as if you were his world. This was an intimacy that could not be replicated, and his mind shattered at the notion of loss.
"Never wander somewhere I can't follow," spoke the desperate man.
You flashed him a cheeky grin. "You won't be able to leave if you want me to stay."
He leaned in, lips close enough to brush. "I won't leave. Not ever again."
And he dipped back in for another taste, addicted to the ambrosial quality of your lips as he buried himself in the shrine of your arms. 
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дорогая = dear федя = fedya
TAGLIST: @ruru-kiss @miloofc @osarina @meiluvrr @suru1990 @honeymoon38 @saeandscaralover @dazaisms @v4mpash3 @coffeeofsamu @just-another-crack-artist @snowsilver2000 @chyozai @justcallmesakira @little-miss-chaoss @himikoslove @osameowdazai @deepseafragments @aureatchi @tirasamu @kelperspelt @squigglewigglewoo @lovesick-fairy @zyilas @ishqani
a fyodor fic! very original for me, i know. nana and i planned out this collaboration months ago, and were luckily able to schedule it for the chapter release. again, please go check out her side of the collaboration! speaking of chapters, that update was certainly something. i'm intrigued to see the further development of atsushi and akutagawa through the end of this story arc, since it feels like they've switched roles in regards to the desperation, if that makes sense. and, of course, it was interesting to see fyodor express such strong emotion in reaction to atsushi, and i'm excited to see it unfold in the next installment! feel free to discussion discourse below :D
© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.
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mythvoiced · 6 months ago
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-. was looking at the gh-ost do-ctor tag bc guess what i'm rewatching but ofc my love my darling le.e ra.ng had to pop up bc ki.m bu.m is simply that show-stopping we must mention his iconic roles at all times (l.aw scho.ol is on me list btw), but basically, in other words, stop showing me the baby fox i haven't watched the prequel yet and i'm already going insane
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andthebubbles · 1 year ago
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inkykeiji · 1 year ago
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ahh yes i was the one who requested the car one !! im so excited !!!! 🙈
SO GOOD I CANT WAIT TO GET TO IT OMG
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writtenwhalien · 6 months ago
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jump then fall (into you) | part 1
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banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖
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pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
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note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:
I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…?  2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)
please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺
due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.
 ↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)
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part 1
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“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!” 
The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!” 
“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer. 
“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”
“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”
“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him. 
He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”
Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”
Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”
“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”
Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“
“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.
Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you. 
Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home. 
Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together. 
Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming. 
He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you.  “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice. 
“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms. 
He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”
“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit. 
Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”
Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”
He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”
As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile. 
“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.” 
“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.
Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet. 
“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”
As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you. 
“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.
He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you. 
“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.
He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”
Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”
“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing. 
“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”
Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”
Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”
“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.
“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.
“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”
Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go. 
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The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents. 
“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC. 
“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip. 
“And how did you find it, Jungkook?” 
Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”
“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”
From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”
“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”
Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”
Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant. 
Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you. 
“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks. 
“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”
“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.
Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”
“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.
“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”
He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”
At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”
Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”
“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser. 
He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.” 
At that, your father hums in agreement.
“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds. 
Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”
“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.
Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now. 
For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t. 
Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now. 
However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past… 
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“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug. 
Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”
“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.
Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”
Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug. 
When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.” 
Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?” 
“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.
Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation. 
“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.
“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything. 
Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you. 
Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming. 
It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting. 
“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!” 
You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.” 
“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”
Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.” 
“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.” 
“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.
“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”
“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.
“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly. 
“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you. 
“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.
“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”
“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles. 
“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.” 
“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say. 
He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”
Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”
Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile. 
“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”
“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.
Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”
Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”
As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out. 
As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you.  “So, how have you been?”
Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”
“How’s work?”
“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”
Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.” 
Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”
As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”
“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”
Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”
Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”
Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”
Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.” 
Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”
“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone. 
“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning. 
He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”
Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”
“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex. 
“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”
“He wasn’t sulking.”
“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”
When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”
“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”
Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”
It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise. 
“The girl who he went out with like five times.”
You shrug. “That counts for something.
“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”
“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”
“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”
Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”
Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.
“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”
Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”
Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”
You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”
Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!” 
“In what way?!”
“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!” 
“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 
“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come. 
Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think. 
“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.” 
“Here’s here for you, not me.”
“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”
As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned. 
“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply. 
Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”
“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves. 
“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile. 
“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”
Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion. 
From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip. 
Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything.  “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.
Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently. 
It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend. 
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”
Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”
“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”
From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away. 
Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it. 
“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole. 
“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating. 
Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?” 
“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés. 
For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”
Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full. 
Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”
“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?” 
“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.  
“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.
“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”
Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks. 
“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression. 
Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”
“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.
“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”
“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble. 
Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”
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Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace. 
It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.
“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.
“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.
Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.
“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.
“That’s never gonna happen.”
Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”
“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins. 
“You call that fun?” you laugh. 
“Tell me it wasn't.”
You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.” 
Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says. 
“All the time,” you repeat, laughing. 
Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug. 
You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with. 
His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”
“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.
He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”
Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”
Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.
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Knock knock knock
Knock knock.
“Y/N?"
Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”
Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.
There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”
“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”
Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”
With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”
“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”
Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”
Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”
With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.
With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head. 
“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you. 
“This looks good,” you think out loud. 
“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look. 
“What? What’s wro–?”
His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”
“What?” 
“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before. 
Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around. 
“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”
“Who?”
Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”
Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.
“Oh.” 
Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there. 
Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.
Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.
Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed. 
When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real. 
You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.
Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.
As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.
“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”
“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.
“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”
He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead. 
“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.
“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.
“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”
“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”
“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”
“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.
Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.
Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.
“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.” 
You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”
“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”
“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”
“Thank you, angel,” she winks.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.
“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.
Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”
Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”
Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.
With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”
Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.
“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”
“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too. 
“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her. 
“You too, Y/N,” she winks. 
Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too. 
“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to. 
Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.
“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat. 
“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast. 
“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”
Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to. 
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”
Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow. 
Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.
Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”
She pauses then frowns. “Together?”
Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too. 
“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.
“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”
From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow. 
“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.
 “I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll. 
Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?
“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted. 
You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile. 
Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.
“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”
“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist. 
It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy. 
You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward. 
“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.
“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison. 
Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off. 
“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.
When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off. 
Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else. 
Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.” 
“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé. 
Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”
With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”
When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…  
The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you. 
With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now. 
“See, already believable.”
Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face. 
“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”
“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.
“How?” you sass back. 
Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink. 
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The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast. 
The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you. 
“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.
“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly. 
“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you. 
Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.
Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.
The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.
“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”
When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.
From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”
“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.
“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.
“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.
Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”
“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.
Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.
You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.
His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.
“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.
When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does. 
“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. 
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”
Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived. 
“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?” 
“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.” 
Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded. 
Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too. 
She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.
Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”
“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”
Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.
Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.
“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”
Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug. 
Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you. 
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.
“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”
“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.
“Mom!” 
She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.
“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them. 
Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.” 
“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”
“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”
If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”
“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.
“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.
“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.
She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you. 
Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing. 
“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom. 
“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook. 
“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”
“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed. 
Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored. 
“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away. 
Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad. 
“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”
Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“
“There isn’t?”
“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”
“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed. 
“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”
“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks. 
“Sure.”
Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”
Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”
“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”
“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”
“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”
“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”
Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.
Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”
Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”
“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people… 
Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him. 
“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.
“Me?” you ask, surprised. 
“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”
Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”
“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”
“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo. 
“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree. 
Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”
“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!” 
She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real. 
You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right. 
Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else. 
That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making. 
Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”
She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.
“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself. 
Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”
Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”
“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes. 
“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks. 
“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?” 
There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”
Jungkook nods, lips pursed. 
“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you. 
Jungkook nods again. 
She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”
“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”
“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”
“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus. 
“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.
You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”
“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.
“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.
“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”
Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”
Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today. 
Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.
“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.
“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.
“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.
“Thanks.”
Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”
Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.
Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.
“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.
He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.
“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”
“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”
Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.
“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot. 
“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.
He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment. 
Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something. 
“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess. 
Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.
“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.
Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”
He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.
Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”
“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”
Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”
Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”
“Pretend to date me.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” you repeat.
With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back. 
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“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them. 
Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”
“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell. 
Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together. 
The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors. 
“Where’s Alex?” you ask.
“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”
“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge. 
“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”
At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”
Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”
“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”
“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”
Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.
Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.” 
“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.
“Except that.”
“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”
Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”
“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago. 
At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.
Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”
“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”
Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling. 
“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.
Oh. 
His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”
“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”
He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.
Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times. 
“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.
“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.
Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.
“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”
“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”
Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”
Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence. 
“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it. 
“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk. 
“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”
Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway. 
“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.
“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.
Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you. 
“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”
For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.
Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence. 
“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”
“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds. 
“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”
As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things. 
“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile. 
Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.
“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”
Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass. 
As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect? 
Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely. 
“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.
The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again. 
“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier. 
“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”
“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.
Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”
In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange. 
“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”
“Not bad, yourself?”
Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”
“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction. 
Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.
“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile. 
Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out. 
“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”
“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile. 
“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”
Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle. 
Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”
“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”
He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”
Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”
“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly. 
“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”
Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook. 
“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”
He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly. 
You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence. 
“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.
Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you. 
“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm. 
You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently. 
“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm. 
Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party. 
As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”
You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest. 
“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment. 
Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”
“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”
He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”
“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.��
Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.” 
It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it. 
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“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her. 
“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin. 
“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents. 
Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin. 
“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card. 
Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”
He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”
“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”
Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”
You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“
“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!” 
The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you. 
Slowly, you turn around to face her.
“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!” 
Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.” 
Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move. 
“Mhm, you too,” you nod. 
As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face. 
Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both. 
For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else. 
Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”
“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”
He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”
“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”
A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her. 
Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”
The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter. 
“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”
“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.” 
Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin. 
“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.
Valentina only nods, still waiting.
Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”
“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut. 
Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”
Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.
Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.
Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried. 
Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.
Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says. 
“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly. 
Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps. 
“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.
“Me neither.” You turn to look at him. 
He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”
“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”
Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”
“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.
For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh. 
The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes. 
He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his. 
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says. 
Nodding, you lift your pinky finger. 
He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours. 
“I will,” you promise him.
His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears. 
“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips.  “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.” 
“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.
“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”
“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”
“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed. 
You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out. 
“I guess that makes things easier for us—“
You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you. 
“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you. 
“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.
“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt. 
Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?” 
Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”
“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”
Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”
Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”
“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper. 
“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—” 
“Well, this is interesting.”
Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.
She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”
Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”
Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”
“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed. 
You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts. 
“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”
As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood. 
“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”
“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”
“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”
“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.
“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”
“True,” Jungkook sighs.
“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”
The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you. 
“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.
Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.
“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.
Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly. 
“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.
You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.
“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment. 
Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”
Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of. 
You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.
“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face. 
“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed. 
Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”
You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”
“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.
“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”
“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.
“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”
Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.
Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.
“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”
You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead.  “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”
Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”
Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”
“A terrible one.”
“Exactly.”
“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you. 
“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.
“He’s covered,” he says quietly.
“Not enough.”
Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”
Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising. 
“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”
Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders. 
“They’re that sweet, huh?”
“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”
“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.
You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him. 
Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”
Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you. 
He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.
Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice. 
You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping. 
“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile. 
You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect. 
There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”
“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases. 
“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos. 
Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”
Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”
Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”
Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.
“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.
Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”
You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.” 
He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”
With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”
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The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare. 
The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you. 
It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s. 
Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you. 
“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.
She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”
“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules. 
“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”
“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.
Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.
It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”
“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge. 
“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”
Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.
Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself. 
“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together. 
You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—
Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.
“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.
“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”
“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins. 
Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.
Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his. 
“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.
“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose. 
“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side. 
“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck. 
Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off. 
“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”
Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her. 
Lawrence. 
Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats. 
“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.
“Hey,” you smile back.
“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves. 
Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head. 
“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie. 
“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.
“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”
“You,” you smile. 
Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”
Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool. 
Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.
“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.” 
Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.
“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first. 
He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.
“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes. 
“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”
“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”
She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.
“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”
The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.
Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.
“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”
“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.
“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.
“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.
“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too. 
“Here?” Sophia proposes.
“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.
Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.
“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”
The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.
Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.
With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with. 
“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.
“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”
Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here. 
It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.
“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.
“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.” 
“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”
“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen. 
“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.
Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”
Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”
“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”
“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”
Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well, 
“Hey!”
Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.
“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.
“Run,” you nod.
Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.
“Hey! Stop!” 
You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.
“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.
The guy is right behind you. 
“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right. 
“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up. 
“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.
“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”
“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.
“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.
“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.
Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.
You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.
Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”
You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you. 
Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”
You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.
“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly. 
He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.
When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.
“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.
“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. 
The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.
That damned Jungkook effect. 
Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–
“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.
‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”
“Mhm, that’s okay.”
Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful. 
“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.
Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”
He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”
You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”
“That would make us the winners.”
“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”
“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”
“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”
“What?” you frown, looking up confused. 
“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”
“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge. 
“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh. 
He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.
“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”
“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way. 
Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.
Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.
Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.
He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed. 
“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”
He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”
“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”
“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”
“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.
Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”
“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?” 
“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”
Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”
“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”
“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.
“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.
Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to. 
“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”
“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”
“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.
“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”
Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”
“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”
“Switzerland?”
“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip.  “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”
“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”
“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”
“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him. 
“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline. 
“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.
Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”
You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”
Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it. 
“What?” you ask, turning to face him too. 
He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”
“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile. 
He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”
You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.
“Both I guess,” you answer honestly. 
He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.
“Are you surprised?” you ask.
“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”
“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”
He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”
You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”
“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”
“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm. 
“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.
“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”
Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.
“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”
Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”
“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”
Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.
“You did?”
“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”
Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.
“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away. 
“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh. 
To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”
It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.
Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”
All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind… 
“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile. 
Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook? 
It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre. 
Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.
Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment. 
Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows. 
“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…” 
His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”
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note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here
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